Abigail’s POV
I sat in the passenger seat of Elle's car, and she handed me a napkin to wipe the smudged eyeliner that stained my cheeks.
She rolled out of the parking lot slowly. “Tell me what’s going on,” she said.
I didn’t care where we went; I already felt safer with her by my side and no destination.
I started our road trip rambling about Momma's outburst and the harsh words that stung me in the church.
"F*ck all of them," Elle said. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel. "I'm proud of you for sticking up for yourself though."
"Thanks," I smiled gently.
"Hey, I'm glad I can still make you smile," she noticed it as she looked to her right to make a turn.